


The Witch Michael AU That Nobody Asked For

by FrickinFabFutureFangirl



Series: The Witch Michael AU [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - No Squip, Bisexual Jeremy Heere, Cafes, Cat Cafés, Fred The Walking Aloe Plant, Gay Michael Mell, Greg The Magic Talking Hat, How Do I Tag, How is that not a tag, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, I'm trying, Jeremy Heere and the gay crisis, Jeremy Heere's constant No Homo face, Jeremy is Heere, Jeremy is a little shit, Kiki's Delivery Service AU I guess???, Michael Mell is a Mess, Michael Mell's Good Red SweaterTM, Michael is Queer, Michael is a fucking show off, Mind reading ish??, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Swearing, Trans Jenna Rolan, Witchcraft, boyf riends - Freeform, idek, minimal plot, not really tho, spells, the slowest burn, very little plot, witch!michael
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2019-10-09 05:50:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17401217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrickinFabFutureFangirl/pseuds/FrickinFabFutureFangirl
Summary: What it says on the tin. Michael is a new witch and he goes to NYC. Jeremy is his neighbor. Gay ensues. Talking articles of clothing, plants that walk and drink tea, cats, and Rich (because you don't happen to Rich, Rich happens to you) occur along the way. All ships but Boyf Riends are minor and background but eventually there.This is my first fic, so please be gentle with me.





	1. Welcome to New York, Michael Mell

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I'm an actual mess so expect some erratic updating. I'm still new to this whole publishing writing for other people to see thing so... help? Constructive criticism welcome and honestly I'd like any feedback, good or bad, just please be nice! Anyway, pretty much no romance in this chapter, just exposition. Expect Michael Mell's 10/10 effective communication skills.

Michael hopped off the bus and stared up at the apartment building in awe. Cities were a new experience for him, a far cry from the small town of Morlea where he grew up. Back home, everyone knew everyone else. In New York, you knew no one. He was beginning to regret coming here for his year away from home. It was a long-held tradition for witches to study a year away from home to develop the skills they would need later on in life. The witch would have to be completely independent for a year before they could either choose to stay and be the witch of a town, or go back home and train younger ones. There was a similar tradition in Europe, where a witch must leave home at thirteen, but in America, they didn't feel the need to set an age, permitting it was over fourteen. Michael was taking his year at age seventeen. 

As of recently, the Witch of New York City had been hit by a car and passed away, leaving a vacancy. All of the witches in the U.S. were born and raised in Morlea, (likely to do with a curse placed on the town by Merlin. It wasn't actually a curse, but the residents all agreed that blessing sounded far less badass, and so they stuck with curse.) and there was a roster of all the witches in the U.S. there. Michael didn't actually  _ want _ to be the new Witch of NYC, but people in NYC weren't pleased with the lack of a person to perform exorcisms and give them love glamours, so they sent a formal request to the town of Morlea to send their next trainee to NYC. Unfortunately for Michael, the other witches were either settled in Morlea or under thirteen, therefore resulting in him being stuck with the job. 

Back to the present; he was standing outside the apartment where the old Witch of NYC had lived. He took a few steps forward and pressed the buzzer.

“Hello?”

“Um, hi, I’m Michael, um Michael Mell? I’m the witch, uh, we got the letter back in Morlea, um, I’m here to live in the Witch’s House?”

“Oh, right! We were expecting you, come on in!"

The door buzzed before clicking unlocked. He took a deep breath in and walked into the building. It was actually quite a nice place, judging by the lobby at least. It was an open concept space done in tasteful neutrals with a dark blue accent wall and a few plants. Michael stood awkwardly in the middle of the room for a few seconds before hearing a voice.

"Michael?"

Michael whipped his head around, startled. A young, bubbly woman wearing a sweater and some frankly impressive heels in an abhorrent shade of blue walked over to him.

"Yeah-I'm him-I-I mean-yeah, that's me." He said rather lamely. _ Brilliant Michael, brilliant. 10/10 communication. _

"I'm Brooke. Come with me please!" She said, scribbling something on her clipboard before turning away and walking through a door that Michael hadn't noticed before. He hurried to catch up.  _ For someone wearing heels of that size, she sure can move. _ He noted, following her down a hallway.

"Alright, Mr. Dillinger is in there, he will be talking to you about rules and such. I'll show you to your apartment when you're finished speaking to him." She smiled at him. Michael walked through the door into the office and closed it behind him. 

"Mr. Mell, please take a seat." A middle-aged man said, looking him over. Michael did as he was told and placed his bag on the ground. The pentacle painted on it glowed faintly and the painted eyes blinked every few seconds. Michael nudged it with his foot. It stopped. 

"H-Hello, I'm Michael-oh-um-yeah-you probably know that already-uh-Brooke said you would talk to me about the rules?" He managed. The man was not impressed. _ Great Michael, less than a day in New York and you've already failed the English language. You word-vomiting word-vomiter. _

"Mr. Mell, I'm going to be frank with you. I need you to demonstrate your capabilities as a witch. You will not be allowed to stay in the Witch's House otherwise. This apartment building is built on the place where the original NYC Witch's House was built in 1789. If you are pretending to be a witch, you are not worthy to be here, and I advise you to get out before I call security. You have to the count of ten to prove yourself."

"What-"

"10."

"Hold on-"

"9."

"Wait-"

"8."

Michael looked around, panicking slightly. Magic was a lot harder on command. He racked his brain for something, quick, easy, and effective immediately.

"7."

"Wait WAIT WAIT!" He shouted. The older man paused briefly.

"If you think you can trick me, you are sorely mistaken. Prove yourself, or leave, Mr. Mell."

Michael closed his eyes and focused. _ Light, light, light, light, light, LIGHT-  _ He opened his eyes. A small ball of light was floating in the space between his hands. Mr. Dillinger looked at it, then at him, then back at it, before focusing on a spot somewhere above Michael's left ear.

"Keep the place relatively clean, you are responsible for repairs, no pets unless approved by me, no loud noises after 11:00 pm. Brooke?" He called. Brooke walked in.

"Yes, sir?"

"Take the witch up to his apartment, and get me a coffee and a bagel."

"Yes, sir." Brooke beckoned him and left. Michael let the light fade out before picking up his bag and leaving the office. Once the door shut behind him he sagged with relief. Brooke looked at him.

"Scary, huh?" she said sympathetically, patting him on the shoulder. 

"I thought he was going to kill me if I'm honest." Michael pushed his glasses further up his nose. Brooke snorted. 

"Well, Michael, he won't. It happens to be illegal here."

"It's still illegal in Morlea, we aren't uncivilized. We just burn herbs and have chats with spirits. And fly on brooms."

"I can't tell if you're joking or not," Brooke said blankly.

"I'm not."

"You can really fly?" 

"Yes, want to see?" Michael asked.

"Yeah, duh!"

"Well, you're gonna have to hang out with me outside of this, because I need a wide open space." Michael winked. Brooke shook her head at this, smiling.

"What a charmer. I happen to live here as well as being Mr. Dillinger's assistant so I will be seeing you. How old are you?"

"Seventeen, as of two months ago," Michael said as they made it back into the main room.

"Alright, so anyway, you live on the fifth floor, number 213. Here is your key, and if you need anything, I'm number 114 with my family. I'll see you around Michael!" She handed him his key and hurried off to get Mr. Dillinger's coffee, leaving him alone in the lobby. He looked around, questioning his life for a few seconds before entering the elevator and heading up to the Witch's House. He unlocked the door and entered the apartment, coughing as dust flew up from around him. 

"Okay, this could use some magic," he said to himself, setting down his bag and locking up. He surveyed his surroundings. The place was spacious, suspiciously so, with a large kitchen and a balcony. When he walked into the bedroom, his hunch was confirmed; it was bigger on the inside than the outside. This place had several windows and a walk-in closet. Clearly, the last witch had made some changes to the place. Michael was pleased with it, all in all. His next step of action was to open every single window in the flat, letting copious amounts of dust out. He walked back to his bag before pulling his things out. Like the apartment, the bag was bigger on the inside, a fact that was made clear as he pulled a broom out of it. He snapped his fingers and the broom started to sweep the dust out, off the balcony. Michael pulled out his hat, a wide-brimmed floppy thing, and sat it on his head. It hopped up, shook itself off, and settled itself back down on his head. Michael smiled to himself and got to unpacking and cleaning. 

About thirty minutes later a knock was heard at the door. Michael's hat had long fallen off and was now sitting on his broom by the door. He had his red sweatshirt tied around his waist and was hanging herbs from the ceiling while floating cross-legged. 

"I'll be right there!" he called, finishing his knot and dropping to the floor, doing his best to land on his feet but failing miserably and sliding into the door on his sock feet. He pulled open the door. 

"Hello?"

A boy about his age was standing outside his door. 

"Um, hi, my name is Jeremy. I-I live downstairs, I heard that the new witch had moved in, I wanted to meet her, is she home?" The boy- _ Jeremy,  _ Michael's brain supplied helpfully-shuffled his feet nervously and looked over Michael's shoulder.

"Oh, um, actually,  _ I'm _ the new witch. It's a common misconception that we're all women, but we aren't. Sorry to disappoint, but you can come in if you like? I'll get some water brewing and we can have tea, or coffee if you prefer? My name is Michael, by the way." Michael smiled warmly and opened the door wider, stepping back so Jeremy could come in if he liked. 

"Oh-uh-yeah, that sounds great!" Jeremy flushed and walked inside. Michael closed the door. 

"So, what would you like, Jeremy?" Michael asked, walking to the stove and grabbing the kettle. It was a lovely shade of red, unlike many classic witch's kettles, but Michael loved it. 

"Um, cocoa is chill?"

"Hot chocolate it is, then." Michael snapped his fingers and two mugs hopped out of the cupboard. A jar of cocoa put a couple spoonfuls of its contents in each while Michael filled the kettle with water. He snapped again and the kettle floated over to the stove, before setting itself down and heating up. Michael pushed his glasses up again and turned to face Jeremy, who was staring at him.

"How do you  _ do _ that?!" He asked, awestruck.

Michael shrugged.

"Magic, I guess? I've been doing it ever since I was little, so it comes easy."

"Well, however you do it, it's amazing," Jeremy stated. Michael blushed at the praise. 

Jeremy ended up staying for most of the afternoon. He only left because as he put it;

"I need to help my dad with his executive functions."

Michael laughed at that. 

"Alright, go help him out. Hey, come over again soon, it was nice meeting you."

"Of course, Harry Potter."

"Hey, just because I have the glasses and do magic doesn't make me a British wizard who will save the world, you know!"

"Whatever you say, Scarlet Witch."

"That's not an insult!" Michael called as he closed his door. From its place on the broomstick, the hat said;

"He was cute."

Michael rounded on it. 

"Greg! We just met him!"

Greg rolled its eyes. How this was possible, Michael had no idea, because this hat had no eyes, but nevertheless, its eyes rolled. 

"We were both thinking it, I'm just saying it."

Michael pinched his brow.

"Okay, fine, he's cute. That does  _ not _ mean I am getting a crush on a guy I just met. I am not gonna pull a Frozen."

"Suuure."

"Greg?"

"Yes?"

"Shut your fucking mouth. You don't even have a mouth. You are a hat. Stop teasing me about my crushless hermit existence."

"Michael?"

"What?"

"Absolutely fucking not."

Michael put his face in his hands.

"I will not get a crush on this guy, Greg. It will be  _ fine _ . It will be  _ easy _ ."

 

It was not easy.

  
  



	2. Jeremy Heere is a Gay mess, but he refuses to admit it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What it says on the tin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so sorry about the long time between chapters. I was going to put a witty excuse here, but I don't have one so.... Sorry! Anyway I don't usually write from JereBear's perspective, so, ooc warning. Please comment if you can/want to, I live off validation. Thanks anyone who reads and everyone who doesn't, See you at the end of the chapter!

   When Jeremy had heard that the new witch had moved in and that they were about his age, he was ecstatic. He had been rather close with the last one, and he missed her dearly, but he wanted another close friend like her.

  
    However, what he had not anticipated was how stressful standing outside someone's door after knocking would be. The witch still hadn't answered her door, and he was beginning to worry that this one was antisocial and hated everything. Thankfully, he was proven wrong when the door swung open.

 

    Oh.

 

    **Hello**.

 

    A boy had opened the door. And he was absolutely gorgeous. This boy was _gorgeous_. He was shorter than Jeremy, not by much, but still. And he had this amazing mocha skin littered with random freckles. And that hair. It looked like espresso had a love child with a cloud. But the worst part? The worst part was the glasses. Jeremy was _a sucker_ for glasses. They framed his eyes just perfectly and

 

_Oh good lord I want to kiss him. Wait. That's not correct. If he was a girl, I would want to kiss him. Get a grip, Heere._

  
    "Hello?"

  
    "Um, hi, my name is Jeremy. I-I live downstairs, I heard that the new witch had moved in, I wanted to meet her, is she home?" Jeremy regained his basic human functions in time to speak, but not in time to keep himself from awkwardly looking over the boy's shoulder. _Fuckin smooth, he thinks you're a creep now_. Jeremy's mental Jeremy was banging his head against a wall.

  
    "Oh, um, actually, _I'm_ the new witch. It's a common misconception that we're all women, but we aren't. Sorry to disappoint, but you can come in if you like? I'll get some water brewing and we can have tea, or coffee if you prefer? My name is Michael, by the way." The boy said, opening his door wider. 

  
    _You assuming doof Jeremiah. Of course he's the witch. Gorgeous and magical._ Jeremy berated himself again, before realizing what he had just thought. As a way of hiding from his concerningly gay thoughts, he replied to Michael.

  
    "Oh-uh-yeah, that sounds great!"He walked inside. Michael shut the door behind him.

 

   Somewhere in the back of his mind Jeremy realized that he could be murdered, but he couldn't really bring himself to care. Because this house and the boy who lived in it were _amazing._

  
    This place had herbs hanging from the ceiling. The kettle was _red_. There was a broom in the corner with an _actual witch's hat_ on it.  
    "So, what would you like, Jeremy?"

  
Jeremy was brought back to reality by the sound of Michael's voice.

  
    "Um, cocoa is chill?" Jeremy fought the urge to groan.

 

     _Jeremiah Heere, you actual fucking moron. He didn't even offer you cocoa!!! That's it, language canceled for you. You can't even keep chill around a cute boy, and you are straight. You useless paperclip._

  
    "Hot chocolate it is, then." Jeremy shook himself out of his thoughts in time to see two mugs and a tin of cocoa hopping out of the cupboard. He gaped at them, astonished.

  
     "How do you _do_ that?!" he asked. This was more than he had signed up for. A cute witch was one thing. A cute boy witch that had _actual powers_ was an entirely different one. Michael shrugged and flushed slightly.

  
     "Magic, I guess?" Jeremy was close to banging his head against the wall.

 

_AND HE'S WITTY. Kill me now._

  
    "I've been doing it ever since I was little, so it comes easy." Michael finished. The mugs floated over and one found it's self in Jeremy's hands.

  
    "Well, however you do it, it's amazing," Jeremy said decisively, internally thanking god or whoever that he had regained the brains to form coherent sentences without spacing out for three and a half years. Michael blushed.

  
    A few minutes later found them sitting at Michael's table, talking animatedly.

  
    "Dude, what do you mean you've never played MarioKart? How have you never played MarioKart?" Jeremy was aghast.

  
    "I grew up in a really small town in the middle of nowhere. Literally the middle of nowhere. I have no idea what state Morlea is in. But anyway, kids there go outside and gather herbs, or make friends with a ghost, or go eat a live mouse. There was no internet connection there until 2016, and even then it's primarily used for emails and video chat with witches that have left home, not video games. The kids there has no clue what a Nintendo Switch is. Hell, the only reason I know is that I was getting my phone and an ad came on for it."

  
    "Buddy, next time I see you we're fixing this."

  
    The two went on like this for quite some time, before Jeremy looked over at the clock, (which was red, matching a rather long list of things in the apartment, which somehow, questionably, included the fire alarm.) and noticed that he was gonna have to go get some sort of food for him and his dad if he wanted to eat tonight.

  
    "Oh shit, dude, I've gotta go. I have to get food and help my father with his executive functions." Jeremy stood up and pushed his chair in, walking to the door. Michael did the same.

  
    "Alright, go help him out. Hey, come over again soon, it was nice meeting you."  
    "Of course, Harry Potter."

  
    "Hey, just because I have the glasses and do magic doesn't make me a British wizard who will save the world, you know!"

  
    "Whatever you say, Scarlet Witch," Jeremy called over his shoulder as he walked out into the hall.

  
    "That's not an insult!"

  
    Jeremy smiled at the retort as he heard the door slam. He liked Michael, and he wanted to be friends with him. _And maybe more,_ internal Jeremy whispered. Other internal Jeremy smacked him. (This Jeremy may or may not be holding a can of 'No Homo' spray, that's up to you.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that happened. I'm really sorry, I'm not great at writing jeremy or gay crises. I tried. ILYSM, see you next chapter, thank you so much for reading!


	3. Michael Mell is also a gay mess, but not too much in this chapter that is mostly exposition.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title pretty much says it all, but essentially this is exposition and a short interaction with brooke because we can

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, um, generic excuse about having no motivation and losing my mind because school is kicking my ass and also relationships are confusing. But really guys, I'm so sorry about how long it's been. At this point I'm just trying to write a little bit of this at all and honestly I thought about abandoning this fic because haha i have no motivation. Anyway, this is a short ass chapter that I posted mostly to let anyone who reads this know that I have NOT abandoned it, I'm just a terrible writer/updater. I am really sorry y'all, I'm trying. Without further ado, the chapter.

Greg was right. It was not easy. Jeremy had come to visit multiple times since they first met, and Michael had gone over to his a fair few times as well. There was just something about him that was so easy for Michael to talk to. Terrifyingly easy, in fact. They shared a ridiculous obsession with Mountain Dew and retro sodas. Jeremy introduced Michael to video games (Michael's favorite was Pac Man, but Apocolypse of the Damned came in a close second) and Michael had taught him how to roller skate. (Jeremy was still terrible, but he's trying.) If Anthea had been here, she would have said something about soulmates. Thankfully, Michael didn't believe any of that nonsense, or it would have become increasingly difficult to stay on track with Operation he's-cute-but-I-don't-like-him-like-that. Which was going FINE and had NOT experienced ANY hiccups of ANY sort. It was fine. He and Jeremy were friends. That was all. End of story.

 

"Brooke, I'm doomed!"

Michael groaned and let his head fall onto the table at the cafe where he was sitting with Brooke. She smiled and patted his back sympathetically.

"Yeah, you probably are."

Michael looked up at her accusingly.

"Wow, I feel so much better about my love life and all of its problems, thanks, Brooke."

She snorted into her drink.

"I just came here for the tea. Literal and figurative. Speaking of, this Oolong is really good, wanna try some?" She offered Michael the cup, which he waved away. He and Brooke had gotten fairly close over the past two or three weeks, with the pair going out for coffee or hanging out in Michael's apartment about every other day.

"I'll pass. But Brooke, seriously, what do I do? He's not gay, he's said so a million times!"

Brooke rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I don't buy that for a minute. Chloe says he was practically drooling when he came back from your apartment. When she asked him what was up, he supposedly went off on a tangent about how spectacular this new boy was, how he couldn't believe his luck to find someone as nerdy as him, etc. You don't have to worry about it, even if he isn't gay, he's supportive. One of his best friends is trans and a lesbian and he didn't even bat an eye when she came out to him."

Michael sat up and sipped his cappuccino.

"Michael, if worst comes to worst, he knows you like him and things are awkward for a while. You two will move past it. It'll be fine." Brooke said, glancing at her phone to see the time.

"SHIT! Michael, I'm so sorry, I've gotta go! Mr. Dillinger has a meeting and he'll murder me if I'm not there to take notes." She jumped up and handed Michael five bucks.

"Brooke, I can just pay for it, it's fine-" he protested. Brooke side eyed him in the way that made him think she would kill him in his sleep.

"You bought last week, and this is just for my drink. I'd pay for yours if you would let me, but this tea is mine." She smiled and waved before disappearing through the doors of the cafe.

 

The next day Michael woke up to someone knocking on his door. He got out (read: fell off) of his bed and walked over to the door, opening it.

"Who on earth is here at this ungodly hour of the morning-oh hi Jerm, what's up?"

Jeremy smiled at him.

"I'm actually here for non-video game related purposes." Michael raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, do tell," Michael said skeptically, leaning against the doorway.

"I'm here for a spell for my friend Jenna. And it's like 9:30, don't be dramatic." Jeremy slid into the apartment. Michael snorted and closed the door behind him as Jeremy sat on his table and started to munch on a granola bar that he pulled out of God knows where.

"First of all, fuck you, I'm tired as shit, and b, what is this spell for, how does Jenna want it taken, I need details." Michael hopped up into the air and floated crosslegged. Jeremy gaped.

"I swear to god I'll never get used to seeing you float. But all I know is that it's for dysphoria and that she would come to see you herself but she just got breast augmentation and she's still in the hospital." Jeremy said.

Michael bit his lip thoughtfully.

"So she'll be on a bunch of pain meds, is she taking estrogen?"

Jeremy shrugged.

"Can we talk to her?" Michael asked.

"I can text her but it may all be incomprehensible chatter, according to Christine she's pretty hopped up on some strong pain meds."

Michael furrowed his brow out of confusion.

"Christine? I've not heard her name before, is she your-" Michael scrunched his brow and reached out with his mind. Not invasively, of course, he would never break into Jeremy's head, he respected him too much. But he just let his internal mind snake thing poke around Jeremy's shoulders and transmit some emotions back. _Mild sadness, love, respect, affection, longing. Huh_.

"-girlfriend?" he finished, taking an educated guess. Jeremy's eyebrows raised.

"Not quite, ex-girlfriend and current best friend. How did you guess? When I told you about Chloe you knew we weren't together, so it's not an every girl I mention thing." Jeremy asked, slightly puzzled. Michael looked down at the ground sheepishly.

"It's not exactly mind reading, more like making an educated guess based off your emotions, I'm sorry, I should've asked first before reading you-"

Jeremy interrupted the floating boy's rapidly growing run on sentence.

"It's fine, just spooky." Jeremy smiled at him and took another bite of his granola bar. Internal Michael sighed with relief and laid on the ground. Actual

Michael let out a breath that he didn't know he'd been holding and continued floating.

"So when does Jenna get out of the hospital? I'd really like to be able to talk to her in person about what this spell is for and how it's gonna affect her, but if that's not possible..." Michael let his voice trail off. Jeremy nodded and pulled out his phone, typing something quickly and getting a bright 'ping' noise as a response.

"Chrissy says she's getting out on Monday, does that work for you?"

"It's not like I have anything planned here, I'm still rather new. Is she coming over on Monday?" Michael said.

Jeremy nodded.

"Alright now that that's out of the way, Portal 2?"

"Hell yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so yeah, short and pointless. (like me hahaha I'm depressed) But honestly y'all are great and I love when you read my stuff. Please leave a comment with requests or feedback (if it's a request remember how long it takes for me to update and don't @ me if it takes a while but seriously leave me prompts I'm lonely and need to write rip), I love hearing from you guys. Leave kudos if you thought it was good, don't if you didn't, that whole rhetoric. Anyway, thanks to anyone who reads and everyone who doesn't, bye!!!!


	4. Michael Mell Gives Family Discounts to a Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael's meetup with Jenna, as promised. God, Mondays are the actual worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi yes I'm not dead! I have a really long drawn out explanation for why this hasn't been up sooner, surprise surprise, it's actually a somewhat valid one! That'll be in the end notes for anyone who wants to know. Anyway, please enjoy the chapter, It's relly late at night and I'm delirious, have fuuuun!

_It's really getting to be time to set up shop._ Michael thought, looking at his rapidly emptying moneybox. He couldn't live off pancakes for the rest of his life, no matter how nice that may seem. And there's no way he'd be able to afford _any_ spell ingredients without a source of income. New Age shops were pricey, even with the discount he got for being Resident Witch. Michael sighed. He'd text Brooke about where the old shop was later. First; pants. He stood up and found a pair that were relatively clean and presentable, and slid them on. It was Monday, and Jenna and Christine would be showing up in about 45 minutes. Michael really needed to become more of a morning person to function properly. He tugged his hoodie over his head and hopped into the air, floating back into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Thankfully, it seemed to sense his need and hopped over to the sink, proceeding to fill itself up with water before hopping back on the burner, which Michael managed to turn on without setting himself on fire. He grabbed some tea and a mug from a cabinet, setting a quick intention to have more goddamn energy once he had finished it. Not even a full ten seconds after he had grabbed his tea and sat down, someone knocked at his door. Michael groaned and let his head fall forward onto the table before standing up and answering the door.

  
"Jesus Michael, who stole your spine and turned your oatmeal into cement? You look like death."

  
"Jeremiah Heere, ever the eloquent bastard. Not all of us can roll out of bread looking like a living person who hasn't been possessed by The Grinch. Get in before you let anyone else see me in my pre-moisturized horror."

Jeremy walked in, smiling ever so slightly and sat on the counter as Michael locked back up.

"Okay, a, you just said rolled out of bread, and 2, fuck you, I put the work in for this semblance of semi-clear skin, applying foundation evenly is fucking difficult my dude."

Michael rolled his eyes.

"I have so many ways I could respond to that, but I literally have no energy and some caffeinated bliss to sink into. Anyway, you're here for a reason, what's up?" he said, taking a sip of his tea and sitting down at the table. Jeremy pulled out his phone.

"Okay, so Jenna's gonna have trouble getting here on time and is instead wondering if we could meet up at the cafe down the street at 10? That's about two hours away so you'll have time to shower and get ready and just start to function like a human being. How's that sound?" Jeremy looked up from his phone at Michael who was looking more awake, if only slightly.

"That sounds like it works, the only other thing I'm planning to do today is to find where the last witch set up the shop and maybe get started on reopening it? There's not much other than pancakes I can eat on what I currently have saved up." Jeremy snorted at Michael's deadpan tone.

"You laugh now, but try eating pancakes for three weeks straight. I want Indian food." He finished his tea and stood up.

"I'm gonna go shower, help yourself to anything in here, I should be right back, if I'm not, avenge me."  
With that, he went to shower.

In about 15 minutes he came back out, with wet hair and clean clothes, looking refreshed and awake.

"Ah, the witch emerges from his den. How are we feeling after some moisturizer and shampoo?" Jeremy was smirking and appeared to be taking a video on his phone.

Michael rolled his eyes for what seemed to be the millionth time.

"I'm feeling better you bastard, put the phone down, there's literally nothing to see here."

"Folks, that is a blatant lie, we got him, what a liar-"

"Jeremy," Michael said, exasperated, but smiling all the while.

"Yes, Michael?" Jeremy responded innocently, still filming.

"Why are you filming me?"

"Probably because most of my friends haven't met you and don't believe that you can really float." Jeremy looked at the other boy pleadingly.

"Okay, fine you idiot. Put the puppy eyes away, you look ridiculous."

Jeremy gasped, mock offended.

"Michael, I cannot believe you would say such hurtful things. After all we've been through together!" At some point in this speech, Michael had started cracking up and was now clutching his stomach and giggling hysterically.

"Wow, my pain is a joke to you! I'm offended-" At this point, Jeremy started to giggle as well. Michael started to calm down and was now only laughing intermittently.

"I thought you wanted me to float, not have a seizure." he chuckled

"At this point either works, although the video's getting a bit long so you should get on with it."

Michael rolled his eyes dramatically and walked out int an open area. He was on camera, so he was gonna put on a show. He leaned back, arching his spine with a flexibility that could not under any circumstances be achieved without magic and slowly, slowly, lifted his feet off the ground one by one, before completing his backbend and winding up floating cross-legged in front of Jeremy. He smiled almost shyly.

"Ta-da!" he said.

Jeremy looked shocked but at this, he seemed to regain some of his previous filming bravado.

"Frickin show off."

 

The two boys passed the time in various ways after that, mostly Michael showing off and Jeremy filming him and teasing him playfully. Time seemed to fly and when the alarm that Jeremy had set to start heading down to the cafe went off, both were startled, Michael enough so that he fell out of the air.

"So where even is this place?" He asked as he started to pick himself up. Jeremy offered him a hand, which he accepted.

"It's like a block away, it's called A Cup and A Pinch and it's got amazing cheesecake. It also serves as an adoption center for cats. They live there and the employees are really nice. It's owned by someone named Mallie, she's a sweetheart. She lives with her wife above it and takes care of the cats when it closes."

Michael made it off the floor and grabbed his hoodie, phone, and keys.

"It sounds fantastic, let's head out, do you need to grab anything?"

The two boys left the flat and locked up.

"Nah, I got everything."

They took the elevator down and left the building. It took about five minutes to get there. It was a homey place, with Lo-Fi music playing inside, and cats on roughly 80% of the surfaces.

"Jeremy! Hi, oh my gosh, so good to see you!" A girl hopped up from a table near to them and gave Jeremy a hug, which the boy happily returned.

"Hey Chrissy, how've you been?" he asked when they separated.

"Spectacular! Stupendous! Fantastic! Oh boy, I'm running out of adjectives. I'm thinking about adopting Oscar here!" It was at that moment Michael realized the girl was holding a small gray tabby cat. _Oh my God how does this girl have so much energy?_  he asked himself. He focused his attention on the table from which she had sprung forth. There was a girl sitting there, petting an orange cat. She smiled at him, almost as if to say _Look what I put up with._  He walked over to her and sat down across from her, or at least attempted to. A cat meowed loudly from the seat of the chair he was about to sit on, and he stood up abruptly and apologized to the cat. It looked at him and hopped off of the chair onto the table. He sat down properly this time and looked over at the girl.

"So, are you Jenna?"

The girl smiled.

"Yeah, that's me. You're Michael, right? I'm really sorry I couldn't make it to your place this morning, I slept in."

Michael laughed.

"So did I, to be honest. I'm actually kinda glad you couldn't make it, I looked like a zombie."

"Oh my God s _ame tho._  I'm a literal gremlin when I wake up. Anyway, we're here to talk shop. What do you need to know?"

Michael sat up straighter and visibly brightened.

"Okay, so first of all, what kind of spell are we looking for, potion, sigil, jar? Do we want to ingest it or is it a topical or neither? Is this a repeated scenario?"

Jenna laughed a little at Michael's excitement.

"I'm thinking a potion, ingesting it orally, and probably a take as needed kinda thing?" she suggested. Michael nodded.

"Okay, what meds are you currently taking, do you have any allergies?"

"I'm currently on oxycodone for the next month or so, I'm also taking estrogen supplements and the occasional Claritin, cause, y' know, pollen." She waved her hand around noncommittally.

"Alright, that's everything I needed to know!" Michael said brightly, jotting it all down on his phone.

"That's it?" Jenna asked, astonished. "I thought there would be more price haggling and stuff."

"Well, you're getting this one for free because you're one of Jeremy's friends and I typically do a friends and family discount. I don't know you very well, but I like you so far."

"Just you wait," Jenna said darkly. The pair made eye contact for about three seconds before bursting out laughing.

"Well, well, well, you two seem to be getting on nicely. Michael, you got everything you need information-wise?"

"Hey Jere, It's looking like it. I should actually probably be heading out now," Michael said, a little mournfully. He'd really wanted to try that cheesecake.

"Absolutely not! We've heard so much about you, and yet we really don't even know you!" Christine took a seat next to Jenna, who gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Jeremy sat down next to Michael.

"Yeah, come on Micha, get a coffee, a baked good, and a cat on your lap, and then tell us about growing up in Morlea!" Jeremy said, smiling. Michael blushed and stood up to get some food. When he came back, the same cat who had stolen his seat earlier was now back on his chair. Michael sighed.

"Listen buddy, either you're sitting in my lap or I'm sitting in yours, which would you prefer?" The cat side eyed him before standing up and hopping onto the table as Michael sat down, and then back onto his lap once he was settled.

"Okay, so tell us the story of your life!" Christine exclaimed.

"Um, okay, I was born in 2002 in Morlea."

"What state is that in?" Jenna interrupted.

"Um, well, we actually don't know," Michael responded. "Now hush, I'm telling a story!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-Da! I actually really liked this chapter, It was a lot of fun to write. But anyway, explanation time. Not too long ago I got into a really abusive relationship with someone who also enjoyed Be More Chill. We had a pretty good thing going for a while. And then things went rather badly downhill. They started to try to stay over at my house for multiple nights in a row, without consulting me. When I told them that no, they could not in fact do that, they told me how sad and depressed they were feeling. When they told me they were just thinking of ending it all, I fell for it. And then I fell for it again. And again. I let them walk all over me. I couldn't focus my attention anywhere else but them, or they would sulk and sigh and whine and threaten me. They threatened to leave me, they threatened to hurt themselves, and they threatened to hurt me. They started using scare tactics, and they started to try to make me pity them, by telling me about how their parents called the police to take them to mental asylums when they were little. Soon things got worse. They once grabbed my wrist hard enough to bruise. They occasionally dug their fingernails into my thighs when I said something they did't want me to. And I didn't know anything was wrong. At least, I didn't until one of my close friends was reading through my text messages. She told me that this wasn't okay, that this was abuse. I at first tried to defend them, saying that they were in a bad place and didn't mean it. Thankfully my friend got through to me enough for me to talk to someone, and finally, finally, break up with them. You all are probably still wondering how this has anything to do with this fic. Well, before things got bad, we started to call each other Jeremy and Michael. It was a sweet nickname, being Micha. But then they would start using all these awful things against me, and calling me Micha at the same time. It might be silly, but I just couldn't listen or work with or write anything BMC related for a while after it. It just filled me with anxiety and bad memories. Finally, I was able to move past it and keep going, but thats why the delay happened. Anyway, thats my explanation. Please leave a comment with what you thought of the story, anything you wanna say, just the word banana over and over again. leave kudos if you like, don't if you didn't! Thanks to everyone who reads and anyone who doesn't, Bye!


	5. Jeremiah more like JereBIah amirite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What does your dad think?"  
> "Oh, he adores him. He thinks that the sun shines right out of his fuzzy butthole."  
> "Bold of you to assume it doesn't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so jenna rollin callin is Jenna, and not ur valentine is Chloe. This is the playlist I listened to while writing it! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4GMo52H2YJSH6y8QA5Vz7A  
> Enjoy!

Jeremy stood outside Michael's door and knocked. He heard a groan and a thunk, and then someone walking over and unlocking the door. _That seems to be the sound of an exhausted idiot, let's see,_  he thought, waiting for the door to open. When it did, his suspicions were confirmed. Michael stood there, looking like an actual zombie. HIs hair was going in every direction known to mankind, and his glasses were off kilter. _Cute._ Internal Jeremy supplied. This time, he had to agree. Even though he _wasn't_ gay (which he _wasn't_ , thank you very much! 100% heterosexual male here!) he could at least appreciate the visual that was in front of him. However, there was a 0% chance that Michael would be allowed to know that.

 

"Jesus Michael, who stole your spine and turned your oatmeal into cement? You look like death." He smiled a little as he said this. Michael rolled his eyes.

"Jeremiah Heere, ever the eloquent bastard. Not all of us can roll out of bread looking like a living person who hasn't been possessed by The Grinch. Get in before you let anyone else see me in my pre-moisturized horror."

Jeremy walked in and sat down on the counter.

"Okay, a, you just said rolled out of bread, and 2, fuck you, I put the work in for this semblance of semi-clear skin, applying foundation evenly is fucking difficult my dude." 

Michael responded to this with the second eye roll of the day. _If he keeps doing that, his eyes are gonna fall out._

"I have so many ways I could respond to that, but I literally have no energy and some caffeinated bliss to sink into. Anyway, you're here for a reason, what's up?" Michael said, sipping his tea. _I like seeing you and my day is ruined when you aren't in it._  Jeremy pulled out his phone and scrolled back to the series of messages he'd exchanged with Jenna earlier.

 

 

jnna rollin' callin: help i slept in and it's like really l8 plz help i cant get  
there on time

 

im heere: np hes prolly a trainwreck this early in the morning lol XD

 

jnna rollin' callin: plz never say lol XD ever again

 

im heere: no lol XD

 

jnna rollin' callin: why am i ur friend

 

im heere: bc u love me

 

jnna rollin' callin: do i know that? yes, yes i do

 

im heere: its literally been 3 yrs since that movie came out stop referencing it

 

jnna rollin' callin: did u just boot my stroller

 

im heere: stAHP

 

jnna rollin' callin: its called a hustle sweetheart

 

jnna rollin' callin: ok im done

 

jnna rollin' callin: jrere

 

jnna rollin' callin: jeremy come baccccccckkkk

 

im heere: ye

 

jnna rollin' callin: whre u go

 

im heere: elevator

 

jnna rollin' callin: kk

 

jnna rollin' callin: but srsly can we meet up @ 10 @ cup&pinch?

 

im heere: he should be fine with tht, hes usually exhausted

 

im heere: wait

 

im heere: jenna i swear to god if this is just an exuse to play w cats again

 

im heere: jenna whered u go

 

im heere: jenna get back here you idiotic goldfish stop using other ppls open schedules as an exuse to play w cats

 

  
"Okay, so Jenna's gonna have trouble getting here on time and is instead wondering if we could meet up at the cafe down the street at 10? That's about two hours away so you'll have time to shower and get ready and just start to function like a human being. How's that sound?" He said, looking back over at Michael. 

"That sounds like it works, the only other thing I'm planning to do today is to find where the last witch set up the shop and maybe get started on reopening it? There's not much other than pancakes I can eat on what I currently have saved up." Jeremy snorted at Michael's deadpan tone and set a timer for an hour and 45 minutes. _I may be many things, but today, late will not be one of them._

"You laugh now, but try eating pancakes for three weeks straight. I want Indian food." Jeremy watched him as he finished his tea and stood up. 

"I'm gonna go shower, help yourself to anything in here, I should be right back, if I'm not, avenge me."

With that, Michael went to shower. Jeremy looked back down at his phone and opened up Chloe's contact.

 

 

im heere: chlo i think im bi

 

not ur valentine: what a way to start a conversation

 

not ur valentine: not gonna throw me a softball or like start a convo abt smthn else in general b4 shootin on in about ur demigayness

 

not ur valentine: but yes, i kno jerry

 

im heere: what how

 

not ur valentine: :/ rly jerm

 

not ur valentine: ur so obvious

 

not ur valentine: literally scroll up to our convo from like 5 hrs ago u were literally complaining abt how flawless he is

 

 

Jeremy frowned and did so.

 

 

Sent at 2:13 AM

im heere: dont u just hate how flawless michael is

 

im heere: hes got lik such clear skin

 

im heere: like its so soft

 

not ur valentine: ive literally never met him fucking go to sleep

 

 

Jeremy snorted a little at that. Chloe was never particularly one for being woken up in the wee hours of the morning. He scrolled back to the current conversation.

 

 

im heere: how do u kno its michael

 

not ur valentine: its never not Michael u respirating piece of tree bark

 

im heere: ouch

 

not ur valentine: beauty is pain

 

im heere: :/

 

im heere: but srsly do u think i could be bi

 

not ur valentine: r u fuckin serious

 

not ur valentine: yes

 

not ur valentine: ofc

 

not ur valentine: theres literally no way u could not be bi istg ur a walking bisexual flag

 

im heere: ur good w it?

 

not ur valentine: ur literally as dumb as the air in a bagel hole

 

not ur valentine: IM BI JEREMY

 

not ur valentine: UR FINE

 

 

Jeremy let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. A theory struck him, and he looked back down at his phone to test it.

 

 

im heere: k good also news to me since when r u bi

 

not ur valentine: since Brooke became hot in 7th grade

 

im heere: cheers to hopeless crushes

 

not ur valentine: bottoms up

 

 

Just then, Michael walked back into the room. His hair was wet and his glasses were on straight. Jeremy felt his face heat up and desperately fought his body on getting a nosebleed. Michael hadn't looked at him yet, and he quickly put up his phone and started a video. _Hey, it's a good alibi for the staring._

"Ah, the witch emerges from his den. How are we feeling after some moisturizer and shampoo?" He smirked at his own wit.

Michael rolled his eyes for what seemed to be the millionth time. 

"I'm feeling better you bastard, put the phone down, there's literally nothing to see here."

"Folks, that is a blatant lie, we got him, what a liar-"

"Jeremy," Michael said, smiling. _**Fuck** he's gorgeous._

"Yes, Michael?" Jeremy responded innocently, still filming.

"Why are you filming me?"

_Because I adore you and your face makes me die inside a little because of how astonishingly stunning you are_. Jeremy's brain supplied helpfully.

"Probably because most of my friends haven't met you and don't believe that you can really float," Jeremy said. _Wimp._

"Okay, fine you idiot. Put the puppy eyes away, you look ridiculous." Michael teased. 

Jeremy gasped, mock offended. 

"Michael, I cannot believe you would say such hurtful things. After all, we've been through together!" About halfway through this speech, Michael had started cracking up and was now clutching his stomach and giggling hysterically. _What a beautiful idiot. Such a gorgeous dumbass. How adorably stupid._

"Wow, my pain is a joke to you! I'm offended-" At this point, Jeremy started to giggle as well. Michael started to calm down and was now only laughing intermittently. His glasses were crooked again. _Pity, I wish I could listen to that til the day I die,_ Jeremy thought. 

"I thought you wanted me to float, not have a seizure." he chuckled.

"At this point either works, although the video's getting a bit long so you should get on with it."

Michael rolled his eyes dramatically and walked out into an open area. He leaned back, arching his spine with a flexibility that could not under any circumstances be achieved without magic and slowly, slowly, lifted his feet off the ground one by one, before completing his backbend and winding up floating cross-legged in front of Jeremy. He smiled almost shyly. Jeremy was totally and utterly speechless. _That might have been the most graceful, impressive, and beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life._ He had just watched a boy literally arch into a perfect backbend and keep his feet totally off the ground. Of course, it was magic, but that doesn't make it any less impressive. 

"Ta-da!" Michael said.

Jeremy realized he should probably stop gaping and say something witty.

"Frickin show off."

 

The two boys passed the time in various ways after that, mostly Michael showing off and Jeremy filming him and teasing him playfully. _Some would call it terrible flirting, and I agree with them,_ Jeremy had thought at one point as he was bantering playfully with Michael, who was standing on the ceiling. 

"Dude, you're literally like Spiderman! This is almost the, like, iconic kiss position!" He exclaimed, phone camera still on. _I'm really gonna need to buy more iCloud storage._

"Bold of you to assume I'm on the good side," Michael responded. "I'm far more of a Deadpool. If anything, _you're_ Spiderman. You have such long limbs and are a total disaster who's overwhelmed with the feeling of needing to do well in the world and make a difference."

"When did you get so good at psychoanalysis my dude? That's like, terrifyingly on point."

"What can I say? I'm magic, baby." Michael smirked and did jazz hands. Internal Jeremy thought that was unfairly hot.

Just then, a loud blasting of "WHEN WILL YOU LEARN? WHEN WILL YOU LEARN, THAT YOUR ACTIONS HAVE _cOnSeQuEnCeS_?" blasted through the house. Jeremy jumped and fumbled his phone, nearly dropping it. Michael fell off the ceiling onto the back of his sofa, which he slowly rolled off. He groaned.

"Owww." He rubbed the back of his head, before rolling onto his back. Jeremy thought this would be a good place to end the video. 

"That was the timer I set to remind us to get going to the cafe," Jeremy said, watching from his perch on the counter. He hopped off and walked over to Michael, standing over him.

"You okay?"

"I'm good, just bruised." Michael looked up at him. He looked completely dead inside.

"So where even is this place?" He asked as he started to pick himself up. Jeremy offered him a hand, which he accepted. Jeremy firmly ignored the fact that they were holding hands for a second.

"It's like a block away, it's called A Cup and A Pinch and it's got amazing cheesecake. It also serves as an adoption center for cats. They live there and the employees are really nice. It's owned by someone named Mallie, she's a sweetheart. She lives with her wife above it and takes care of the cats when it closes."

Michael made it off the floor and grabbed his hoodie, phone, and keys. 

"It sounds fantastic, let's head out, do you need to grab anything?"

The two boys left the flat and locked up. 

"Nah, I got everything." Jeremy really just needed his phone and his keychain, he had everything he needed on them (money, keys, insurance information, fake ID, mace, allergy medicine, y'know, stuff), and they were both in his pocket.

They took the elevator down and left the building. It took about five minutes to get there. As they opened the door, Jeremy was instantly greeted by the smell of coffee and cheesecake. And cats. They walked a little further in and Jeremy barely had time to notice where Jenna was sitting before he was barreled into by a bundle of bright yellow cardigan, rainbow thigh highs and a small gray cat.

"Jeremy! Hi, oh my gosh, so good to see you!" Christine said, breaking his ribcage. Jeremy returned the hug, albeit more gently. 

"Hey Chrissy, how've you been?" he asked when they separated. 

"Spectacular! Stupendous! Fantastic! Oh boy, I'm running out of adjectives. I'm thinking about adopting Oscar here!" She gestured down at the cat. Jeremy felt rather than saw Michael walk over to Jenna and start talking, and while he was tempted to follow his movements, he knew that Christine could read him like Michael reads tea leaves, and decided against it.

"He _is_ really cute, do you think Mr. Dillinger would approve him?" Jeremy said, stroking Oscar's head. 

"He's actually really well trained and is only a bit of a jerkface sometimes, I don't think Mr. Dillinger will have an issue. Dad and I have been good tenants, we always get our rent in on time, and we keep our apartment clean. He really has no valid reason to deny us," She said, as well rehearsed as she was during drama. She always seemed that way, and Jeremy envied that. 

"What does your dad think of Oscar?" Jeremy asked, watching the tiny furball climb around Chrissy's shoulders.

"Oh, he _adores_ him. He thinks the sun shines out of his little fuzzy butthole."

Oscar meowed, almost like he was saying " _Bold of you to assume it doesn't._ "

"I think you should get him, wanna text Mr. Dillinger and ask?" Jeremy said, getting his phone out.

"Already done! I haven't gotten a response yet, but I'm hopeful!" Christine said, practically vibrating with excitement. Jeremy put a hand on her shoulder and she started to calm down a little. 

"Listen, Chrissy, I wanna talk to you about something," he said, taking a deep breath. "I think I'm bisexual."

Christine smiled and pulled him into a hug. That was the nice thing about Christine. _She didn't ask questions, she just supported you unconditionally._ Jeremy thought, relaxing into the hug. After a moment, they separated. 

"So, who's the lucky guy?" Chrissy asked, wiggling her eyebrows. Jeremy laughed nervously.

"Well, it's, ah..." He trailed off, glancing back over to where Michael and Jenna were sitting. Michael seemed to be asking questions enthusiastically, almost like a puppy. He unconsciously smiled.

"Michael," Christine finished for him.

"Yeah, it's him," Jeremy said, laughing a little. 

"Well, I support you. Anyway, let's go over there, I miss Jenna." With that, Jeremy was dragged back over to the table. He didn't mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy I did an update quickly and okay ish! It was a fun one. Thank you all for reading, please leave kudos if you liked it, don't if you didn't, that whole schpiel. Please leave a comment, I love hearing your opinions, and I also love it when people just screech at me random words from the story, or just screech at me. Come screech at me! Anyway, thank you all for reading, bye!

**Author's Note:**

> That was a bit of a mess, but I'm trying my best! random side note; I feel like flushed and blushed are two totally different things. Flushed=face pink cause embarrassed. Blushed=face pink because praise or gay. sidenote done. Anyway, I love all you in the community, anyone who reads and everyone who doesn't!  
> Bye!


End file.
